The Merry Go Round of Life
by pineappletop92
Summary: Wizards and witches are no secret. Blaine Anderson has never met one before – that is, until, a wizard sweeps him off his feet. Literally. And now, with himself under a curse, Blaine struggles to find a way to help this breathtaking wizard, Kurt Hummel, who seems to be hiding a secret of his own. Two-Shot, KBL Reversebang fic. Inspired by Howl's Moving Castle.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello. So some of you may know about the KBL Reversebang (where the artist draws a picture and then we authors fight over who gets which image and then write a story inspired by said image). This is my submission for it, inspired by the **_**Howl's Moving Castle**_**-esque art created by littlenim (tumblr), which you can see on her tumblr as soon as she posts it (I'll edit this to include a link as soon as I can). I would just like to thank my beta, unicornssaywoosh (tumblr), for being amazing as always and The Fruit Gang for putting up with all my complaining about the amount of time I had to write this. The title comes from the soundtrack for **_**Howl's Moving Castle**_**, the movie off of which this is based (not the book, which I am aware differs from the movie).**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Howl's Moving Castle. That would just be silly.**_

**EDIT: Here's the link to the artwork this is based on. Just take out the spaces and add a dotcom and a slash after 'tumblr' because this site won't let you include that when you try to make changes on its site: littlenimart . tumblr post/25093603018/one-of-my-two-pieces-for-the-klaine-reversebang**

* * *

_**(7): Red**_

Blaine gasped as a wall of heat and air pushed him backwards, pressing him against a brick wall as debris fell all around him. He closed his eyes and turned his face away as the searing heat continued to rain dirt and pieces of concrete on him. When it finally settled, he opened his eyes and turned back to look at the scene in front of him.

Part of the building had collapsed into a skeletal structure, black and crumbling, as orange and yellow flames licked at it from outside and within. Bricks and mortar fell in a pile into the middle of the courtyard. And there, sticking out of the ground like some sick statue, was a large black bomb, undetonated.

And lying haphazardly across it, with black feathers sticking out at odd angles and wings bent unnaturally, was _him_.

"_Kurt,_" Blaine exhaled as he began to clamber of a pile of bricks and uprooted cobblestone. He stumbled once, but quickly righted himself before falling against the warm body that had slid to the ground. Around them he could hear more bombs falling, could see the bright flashes against the smoke-filled sky as homes and buildings burst into flames.

Blaine couldn't understand how it had all come to this. How a person could be so determined she would resort to something so…monstrous.

A sound behind him made him turn his head, and he was reminded suddenly of the urgency of the situation as thick black blobs began to pull themselves from the shadows and form strange figures that began to move towards him and Kurt. Sylvester's spies.

"Kurt, come on," he said gently, shaking Kurt's shoulder and turning his head in his hands. Kurt blinked up at him, his eyes black as coal one second before retreating back to blue as he finally focused on Blaine.

"Blaine?"

"Yes, come on, you have to come inside, now." Blaine stood up and helped Kurt to his feet as several feathers fell away and Blaine was able to make out the shape of his arms again. He felt his heart clench in fear as he realized that almost all of Kurt's body was covered in feathers and had begun to take on the shape of a bird. In fact, more than half of him was bird-like, his human side slowly disappearing into the darkness that was consuming him.

Blaine swallowed thickly past a lump in his throat before turning around and guiding Kurt in the direction of the door – the very same door they had flown out of not even a few weeks ago. Blaine couldn't believe it had only been that long. It felt like a lifetime had passed between then and now.

The ground shook beneath them as another bomb fell close by. This seemed to awaken Kurt out of his stupor, as he suddenly stopped moving just before the doorway. Blaine paused, looking behind them anxiously as Sylvester's spies moved closer.

"Kurt, come on, we have to get inside."

"No, Blaine. You go inside. I'm going back."

Blaine dropped his hand from Kurt's waist and he whirled around to face him.

"What do you mean, 'going back?' Kurt, you can't – you're _hurt_, and you need to stop…_giving in _to this demon inside you. Can't you see it's changing you? You can barely turn back to human anymore."

But Kurt was shaking his head and stepping backwards, away from Blaine and the doorway.

"I can't let her keep going this, Blaine. The bombing….this bullying…it needs to stop."

Without thinking Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt's hands – still human, he noted. "Please, Kurt, not like this. I understand your intentions and want it just as much as you do, but you're going to get hurt! Or worse, I'm going to lose you forever." Blaine choked back a sob.

But Kurt was smiling and shaking his head, his eyes fading back to black. "I can't just sit here and do nothing anymore, Blaine. I was willing to hide and run away before, but not now. Sue is doing this because she knows I will do anything to protect you. And she's right. They can't touch us, Blaine. Or what we have."

And with that he was gone, hands ripping from Blaine's as he shot upwards, wings expanding and disappearing into the black smoke that filled the sky.

Shaking, Blaine stumbled backwards, as realization of what he had to do washed over him. He glanced once more at the black blobs crowding into the courtyard before opening the door and shutting it behind him. He turned around and grasped the knob that would change the color of the wheel, change their location, and take him one step further from Kurt, from being close to him.

He shook his head and reminded himself that by turning that knob he would be one step closer to _saving _him.

The room shook as another bomb dropped nearby. The door was beginning to press inwards as the blobs pushed at it, trying to get in. Blaine leaned against it, pushing back, pressing his forehead against it as he struggled to remind himself that he wasn't running away because he was a coward, that this wasn't the same as last time, that he was doing this to save the man he-

With a deep breath, he flicked his wrist and watched as the colors flew past before settling on

_**(1): Blue**_

The first time Blaine met Kurt felt like a dream.

In fact, he had been so sure it was a dream, until Wes and David had come running up to him, asking him if it was true that what the others were saying – that Blaine had just dropped down out of the sky like a bird – and he had just blinked at them because he had realized that _that had actually happened_.

It felt so strange, the way Kurt's hand had fit so perfectly in his own as they ran down the hallway together. The way Kurt's grip had tightened on his, and then a hand slipped around his waist, drawing him closer. Blaine hadn't known what to say, was wondering how Kurt could be so _forward_ when they had only just met and heck he hadn't even told him he was gay, but then a voice whispered in his ear, telling him that they were being followed but not to worry.

And then the ground disappeared.

They were walking on air.

Literally. Blaine involuntarily gasped as Kurt took him by the hands, body pressed against his back, and pressed his cheek against hair.

"Just walk," he said softly in his ear. "It's easy."

And it _was_. It was so strange, watching his feet make walking movements, and feeling them bounce off the gusts of air that passed beneath them. A laugh had bubbled out of him and he could help but turn and grin at this wizard he had just met.

Because that was what Kurt had to be, he realized. A wizard.

Blaine had never met a wizard before.

Everyone knew about the witches and wizards. They were no secret. Many found themselves sought after by governments to help with national security. Some, but not many, might even take up residence in places largely populated by regular humans and sell their spells and potions for a profit. For the most part Blaine heard they weren't mean or evil. But there were stories of some who fell into the hands of demons and let their souls be eaten away until there was nothing left but greed and selfishness. Those were the ones to watch out for.

Like, for instance, the Fury. A few years ago he had surfaced in Lima, a nearby town that was home to many wizards and witches and their apprentices. It was said to be primarily a place of learning, where apprentices went to train with their masters until they were of age. Unfortunately, not all apprentices manage to make it to graduation before falling prey to a demon. The Fury, as he called himself, had become one of those such beings. Rumor had it that he was prone to stealing the hearts of young men and devouring them.

But those were just rumors.

When Blaine turned his head during their walk across the air, his breath caught in his throat as he found himself staring into shining blue eyes that danced between grey and green like the waves of an ocean.

"See?" Kurt told him. "Told you it was easy."

Blaine swallowed and nodded, not trusting his voice all of a sudden, and turned his attention back to watching the rooftop they were passing over disappear beneath their feet, to be replaced by a soft green lawn, and then another rooftop. He could feel the wizard pressed up against his back, his warmth seeping in through the fabric of Blaine's blazer and shirt, his hands holding his, guiding him and never once letting go or slipping.

Slowly, they began to descend, losing altitude as they bounded over one last rooftop and then came down gently. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Blaine turned around in Kurt arms and opened his mouth to say something. Then, realizing he had no idea what to say, he ended up just staring at him for several moments, mouth hanging open.

Kurt chuckled and smiled at him, releasing his hold on Blaine's hands and stepping back.

"I'm sorry this is as far as I can take you. And I'm sorry I won't be able to see the performance. I was actually looking quite forward to it. Now, if you'll excuse me."

And then he was gone, shooting straight up into the air like rocket before disappearing into a drifting cloud.

That was where Wes and David found him, standing on the grass, staring up at the clouds, wondering dimly if he hadn't just woken up from a very vivid dream. But it wasn't a dream. It was _real_. And the way his body was responding – the fast palpitations of his heart, the sweat gathering in his palms, the uncontrollable shaking of his legs – Blaine had never felt so _alive_.

When Wes and David asked him if he was okay he just started laughing and couldn't stop because of course he was okay. He was _more_ than okay.

He had just walked on air.

* * *

Still humming under his breath, Blaine turned the lock to his house and entered, shutting the door behind him and twisting the bolt to lock it again.

For once he could care less that there was no one there to greet him after school. Normally the lack of parents left him feeling empty inside, but he had long ago realized that his parents had little to no interest in what he did in his spare time, and so he had learned to ignore the cold feeling that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his gut and continue on as if he didn't care. However, today he was glad for the privacy; he didn't want to be asked why he was smiling or thrumming with so much energy and singing the new Katy Perry single under his breath. He started bounding up the stairs to his room, intent on turning on his iPod and blasting his music so he could dance in his socks until his parents came home.

He was halfway up the stairs when the front door slammed open.

Startled, Blaine turned to see a large man standing in the doorway. No, not a man, he realized upon closer inspection, a teenager. He was very large and was wearing worn jeans and a faded black shirt along with an extravagant red cloak with silver lining. He had short cropped brown hair and a large chin. His hands were clenched in fists on either side of him as he entered the room.

Blaine frowned, knowing fully well that he had locked the door after he came in. He turned on the stairs and started down them, but froze when he realized that the teenage boy was already at the bottom of them, glaring up with coal black eyes.

"Wh-who are you?" Blaine asked, trying to make his voice less shaky than he felt. "How did you get in here? That door was locked."

"Locks are for dumb humans like you," the guy said in a deep voice that sent an involuntary shiver down Blaine's back. He stepped backwards, up onto the step behind him.

"You need to leave, right now," Blaine insisted, trying to sound braver than he felt. "This is _my_ house and I will not tolerate strangers coming in here and acting like they own it. Now _leave_."

"Really? Is that how you're gonna talk to the Fury?"

Blaine felt his eyes widen as he recognized the name of the infamous wizard with the demonized soul. "The Fury?"

"Yes, you dumbass. I followed you after your little jaunt with ladyface. If he told you anything about me-"

Blaine shook his head quickly. "No one told me anything about you. I swear."

"Doesn't matter," the guy said with a sneer as he moved up a step. Blaine instinctively moved up another. "I don't like the way you talked to me. And I don't like the way you dress. You look like an old fart. So why not make you just that?"

Before Blaine could protest and explain that he was wearing a school uniform, the Fury drew back a fist and then proceeded to punch the air.

A force hit Blaine in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to double over as pain shot through his entire being. He struggled to regain his breath as a voice called to him on its way out the door.

"By the way you won't be able to tell anyone about that spell. Just in case you thought you could try."

And then the door slammed shut and all was quiet.

When Blaine was finally able to regain his breath, the pain had receded to dull aches around his hips and knees. Slowly, he stood up straight – or rather, as straight as he could go. His back flared in pain before he managed to straighten up all the way and he was forced to stay bent over at an awkward angle, staring at his suddenly very wrinkly hands.

Blaine frowned, confused, and quickly turned and began making his way up the rest of the stairs – well, as quickly as his suddenly aching knees would allow. Which turned out to be not that fast at all.

Eventually he made it to the top of the stairs and down a short hallway to the upstairs bathroom. Flicking on the light, he took one look at himself in the mirror-

-and screamed.

He watched as the old man in the mirror slowly lifted his wrinkled hand to touch his equally wrinkly cheek and jumped when he felt the same touch on his own cheek. A pair of hazel eyes widened at him in the mirror as he realized that the white-haired man staring back at him _was him_.

_**(3): Green**_

Blaine smiled as the color slotted into place and sunlight began streaming in through the window. He could already hear the hustle and bustle on the other side of the door – the rolling cars, the honking horns, barking dogs and people talking to each other and on their phones. With a grin, he gripped the handle and pulled the door open.

_New York City_, he thought to himself, blinking against the blinding sunlight and breathing in the wonderful smell that was New York. Rotting garbage that hadn't been picked up yet, cigarette smoke, and gas fumes from passing taxis. He grimaced and quickly decided not to include the smells of New York as something to fall in love with right away.

"Mr. Anderson, what are you doing?"

He turned and smiled at Rachel, who was standing behind him looking confused.

"You have a door to New York!" he exclaimed, glancing back outside just in time to watch a man walk by with his dog. He waved excitedly, but the man ignored him and continued talking loudly on his phone.

"Yes, of course Kurt does, Mr. Anderson. It's his and my favorite place in the world," Rachel answered, coming to stand next to him in the door. Blaine shifted over so she could have some room to lean against the door frame. He watched her from the corner of his eye, still too busy trying to take in all of the things he could see from the doorway – which wasn't much, actually, just the street, a fire hydrant, the steps leading down, and the row of brownstones across the street.

"As one of our first tests we have to create portals to different places in the world from our homes. One to where our houses are normally located," she counted on her finger, "one to the outer realms, one to where our masters will eventually train us, and one free choice."

"The outer realms?" Blaine repeated, confused.

"It's a place only people with magic can go – where the spirits dwell and where we go to meditate – and even then, only those who have reached a specific level of training. Kurt managed to reach it just before I did, which, I admit, I am still a little jealous about." Rachel frowned, crossing her arms, and staring forlornly out at the same view.

"He used to talk all the time about getting out of Ohio, of coming here and making a name for himself," she said softly. "Kurt and I, we're more alike than you'd think." Blaine wanted to laugh at that, but he refrained. From what he had seen of the two, they were _nothing but_ alike. "He and I shared the same dream. I just wish…"

"What do you wish?"

Blaine tore his gaze away from looking at New York to watch Rachel as she looked down at the ground in front of her.

"I just wish I had tried to become his friend _before_ that…that _bitch_-"

"Hey! I can hear you, you know!" a voice shouted from the hearth.

"Shut up, Santana!"

"Make me, manhands."

"Hold on a second, Mr. Anderson, I think _someone_ needs a bath."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay!"

"That's better," Rachel said smugly as she turned back to face Blaine.

"I don't understand. What did Santana do to Kurt?"

Rachel sighed. "When a wizard or witch takes on a demon, they give up a part of themselves. Most think that they can control it but…it's like a drug. An addiction. They're not just giving up a physical part of themselves, they're giving up part of their soul. And once they do, there's nothing they can do to stop it from spreading."

"I don't understand. What does that have to do with Kurt?"

Rachel just shook her head sadly. "Never you mind, Mr. Anderson. It shouldn't affect you." Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Rachel let out a heavy and slightly overdramatic sigh he closed his mouth to allow her to continue speaking instead. "I just want to help him so badly. My wizarding master, Mr. Schuester, asked me to come here to watch after him and try to find a way to help after…after he changed because he says I'm his best pupil, which of course I am, but I just don't know _how_ to fix him."

Blaine pretended not notice her wiping the tears from her eyes, turning instead to look back out the doorway. He wished somehow to make her happier. He hated seeing anyone upset, and Rachel had to have been having a rough time with this – trying to help her friend while still trying to keep up with her apprenticeship – no matter how strong she seemed to be. An idea came to him then, as he watched a taxi drive by with an ad for a famous Broadway play, and he grinned at Rachel.

"Hey, I know. Why don't you give me a tour of the city? It'd sure be nice to have someone as knowledgeable as you to be my guide."

Rachel eyes widened almost comically and her mouth widened in a bright smile. She clapped her hands together and nodded her head enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, Mr. Anderson! It would be my pleasure! We could go to Times Square and walk down Broadway and there's this little café not a few blocks from here that I absolutely _adore_." Reaching behind the door she grabbed their jackets off of the coat rack and quickly handed him his. He had barely gotten one arm through a sleeve when she slipped her arm through the crook of his elbow and pulled him out the doorway. Pulling the door shut behind them, they headed down the steps and began walking down the street, arm in arm as Blaine continued to struggle to get his other arm in his jacket sleeve.

Neither one heard the click from behind them as inside the building they just left the color on the door wheel turned fromgreento

_**(5): Black**_

The door clicked shut behind him and the dial spun back to its previous color. Blackness fled from the windows to be replaced by a pale blue light from the shining full moon. One of the curtains fluttered as a breeze passed by.

Kurt slowly made his way across the wooden floor towards the stairs, but as he neared the mattress Blaine lay on he paused to stare down at him.

Gone were the wrinkles and grey hair and the liver spots. In their place were fluffy dark curls absent of gel and soft smooth skin. His mouth was open a sliver as he breathed in and out. Kurt couldn't help but smile down at him, loving the way he looked when he was free of all his worries and wasn't letting the curse dictate his appearance. He looked so peaceful this way.

Kurt reached out a hand, starting to lean down to brush the back of his hand across Blaine's cheek, when out of the corner of his eye a black feather caught his eye and he froze, before drawing his hand back as if burned and quickly turning away from Blaine, and made his way instead towards his chair.

Blaine jerked awake as the floorboard by his ear let out a creak. He blinked and rolled over, looking up and recognizing Kurt's figure as he slowly trudged across the floor to the armchair by the fireplace. He watched quietly from where he lay as Kurt sat down with a heavy sigh.

Now Blaine could see him entirely, and realized how _wrong_ he looked. Black feathers stuck out of his arms and legs and even his face like something or someone had pierced them into his skin. But as Blaine looked closer he saw that they hadn't been put there by another hand – they were _growing_ from him.

"Damn, Hummel," Santana said quietly with a hiss and a spark that jumped over the fender. "You look like shit."

Kurt let out a hollow laugh. "Gee, thanks Santana. You really know how to make a guy feel good."

"I mean it, Kurt. It's getting worse."

"You don't think I don't know that?" Kurt snapped at her, before quickly glancing over at Blaine to see if he had woken him up. From his position, however, he didn't seem to be able to see Blaine's open eyes. With a sigh he continued, quieter this time. "You don't think I'm scared, Santana?"

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

"I just…"

"You just what, Hummel?"

Kurt didn't answer her for several minutes. Blaine watched from where he lay, keeping his breathing even, as Kurt plucked a feather from his wrist and, with a shudder, let the others disappear from his body, returning him to his regular self. He brought the black feather up to hold it in the moonlight that still streamed through the window, watching as the light bounced off the feathers to reflect shades of blue back at him.

Softly, he began singing.

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life, _

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise."_

Blaine had never heard such emotion in a song before. Kurt sounded raw and broken, his voice cracking in places as he sang the lyrics of the song. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about the way he sang it in the empty air, with nothing to back him up but the crackling of Santana's fire.

It was at that moment, as Kurt was twirling the feather between him thumb and forefinger, and singing about a broken bird, that Blaine realized he was in love with him.

He must have let out a gasp or made some sort of sound, because Kurt stopped mid-lyric and dropped the feather, whipping his head around to look at Blaine through the darkness. For a moment Blaine could have sworn as they locked eyes that Kurt's were black as night, but then he blinked, and they were blue again.

Kurt stood, mouth set in a firm line, and, eyes never leaving Blaine's, addressed the fire. "I'm going to bed now, Santana. I expect there to be hot water in the morning for my shower. And make sure the house is secure."

"Do I look like your bitch?"

Kurt didn't answer her. He tore his gaze from Blaine and stalked past him towards the stairs. Blaine followed him with his eyes, following his figure as he slipped up them gracefully and disappeared around the corner. It was only then that he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He sighed as the ache of old age settled on him again, and he leaned back on the pillow, turning over to face the ceiling, wishing the tears that suddenly threatened to spill to go away.

_**(4): Yellow**_

Taking a breath, Blaine glanced back at the door before giving a huff of annoyance and heading down the porch steps.

"Honestly," he muttered to himself as he began making his way down the street towards the center of the city. He was lucky that Kurt's house wasn't far from McKinley Academy – the school for witches and wizards to attend for primary lessons and where they met with their masters for their apprenticeships. It should only take him about fifteen minutes to get there. "What is his problem? He can go talk to some cockamamie wizard about being a bully, but he's too scared to tell his old master he doesn't want to be her apprentice anymore? And he sends an old man instead! Oh yeah, that's going to convince her. 'Oh, Lady Sylvester,'" he mimicked to himself as he swerved around a low-hanging branch with a small yellow bird perched on it. The bird tweeted at him, but Blaine ignored it, and continued to cross the street. "'I'm so sorry to inform you, but my…my grandson' – yes, grandson, I can do that – 'my grandson is just too scared of you to learn from you anymore. Yes, milady, I don't see what he's talking about either. You seem like a reasonable woman to me…'"

He trailed off and stopped walking as he noticed that same yellow bird from before was now looking at him from atop a mailbox right in front of him. He looked at it, it sang a note at him, and then took off, rising into the air. But it didn't go anywhere. Instead, it flapped its wings while it hovered above the mailbox and looked right at him.

"What, do you want me to follow you?" Blaine asked the bird. It let out a tweet and began flying away towards the entrance of McKinley. Blaine stood stock still, staring after it, until it flew back, landed on his shoulder, and nipped his ear.

"Ow!" He tried to swat at it but it was already gone from his shoulder, circling around his head and tweeting shrilly. "Okay, okay! I get it I'm coming! What's your rush anyway?" He peered closer at the small bird, and suddenly remembered Kurt's final words to him before shoving him out the door, about possibly disguising himself and coming along. "Kurt? Is that-?"

"Move it, old man!" a voice behind him shouted as a body shoved past him, jostling him. Blaine stumbled to the side, only just barely managing to keep his balance, as a large teenager made his way past him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a red cloak that he recognized almost instantly.

"The Fury!" he breathed, immediately wishing he could retract his words when said wizard spun around and glared at him.

"Who the hell do you…" the wizard trailed off as his eyes widen in recognition. He let out a laugh. "Oh, it's you! The old fairy! And just what do you think you're doing at the Academy? Come to beg someone to lift your curse? Won't work, buttboy. Remember what I said about you not being able to tell anyone about the curse? Your mouth will zip shut on its own."

Blaine closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to will his fist to stop twitching. Anger boiled through him, but he quelled it. Now was not the time to go and show off his boxing skills. Not with a wizard as his opponent. Or an old body like his.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked instead, glancing at the yellow bird that was fluttering around nearby. Kurt didn't seemed too put off by the other wizard's presence, however, so Blaine relaxed a bit.

"That's none of your business," the Fury snarled at him. "For your information, I was _invited_ here." And with that, he turned around and continued on his way into the school.

Blaine glanced at Kurt-bird and shrugged his shoulders. The bird gave a shrill whistle and flew off to land on top of the railing leading up the stairs to the front entrance of the school. Blaine sighed and followed, making sure to keep a good distance between the large hulking man and himself.

Surprisingly, his knees didn't ache him while he was climbing the stairs, few as there were. Grateful for the change in his magically aged body, Blaine reached the top step and grinned at the bird when it landed on his shoulder.

"Shall we?" he asked the bird as he stepped through the door.

"Who the hell are you talking to, you old coot?" the Fury asked from where he was sitting in a chair next to the front desk in the main office as Blaine entered. Blaine glanced at him briefly before deciding it would be better to ignore him and made his way over to the desk instead. Behind it sat a short blond girl with glasses who wore an expression of extreme annoyance mixed with boredom. She was filing her nails and barely looked up at him.

"What do you want?"

"Um," Blaine began, startled at the rudeness. "I…I'm here to see Lady Sylvester, on behalf of Kurt Hummel."

"Whatever. The two of you are to go through that door," she said with a wave at the door to the left, "and wait for someone to come get you. Now leave, before your old man stink ruins my appetite. You too, fatso."

"What? Me? With him? But I'm-" the Fury began, staring at the girl who continued filing her nails.

"Yes, I know who you are and I really don't care. Orders are to send you both through, now get your fat ass in there."

Blaine made his way over to the door, not caring if the Fury was following him or not. Kurt-bird fluttered his wings as they stepped through the doorway into a dimly lit room. It was sparse, with no windows, and no decorations. The walls were concrete bricks, and the only thing in the room apart from a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling was a wooden chair sitting in the center of the room so that the light cast from the bulb created a circle around it.

"Move over, grandpa. I'm sitting in that chair, you can stand for all I care," the Fury growled as he pushed past Blaine once again.

"Didn't anyone teach you any manners?" Blaine grumbled as the door clicked shut and the Fury took his seat. As soon as he sat down, something in the room changed. Blaine tensed as a tingling sensation caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

"What the-" the Fury began, sitting up straight in the chair and looking around in fright. The light above him went out suddenly, plunging the room into darkness, but not for long. A series of smaller lights appeared on the floor, circling around the chair slowly. Blaine watched, eyes wide, as the lights took on human-like figures and began to rise from the floor and dance around the Fury, a strange electric song filling the air as their light spread and brightened.

"This way, old man," a voice to his left said, causing him to jump. When he looked, it was the same girl from the front desk, with the same annoyed-bored expression on her face. "Move it or lose it, you old fart."

With that she turned and disappeared through a door he hadn't noticed before, hidden in the corner of the room and shrouded in shadow. He glanced back at the Fury briefly, but he seemed to be in a trance, staring mouth agape at the light-figures that were gradually moving faster around him. He looked at Kurt-bird briefly, which cocked its head in the direction of the door, and took that as a signal to follow the girl.

After a brief walk down a dark corridor, following the yellow bob of the girl in front of him, Blaine emerged in a large office filled with trophies. As in, every inch of the place was covered in gold statuettes of figurines and plaques commending one "Lady Sue Sylvester" on different achievements in the wizarding and even some in the human world. They lined shelves, covered tables, and even hung from the ceiling. One in particular, claiming her "1st Place in the 50th Annual National Magical Cheerleading Championship," spun around slowly as it hovered a few feet in the air in a large glass display case. Next to that a large window showed off a view of a parking lot filled with cars and flying machines and, beyond that, a field with various obstacle courses with men and women training in them, practicing their magic. He glanced around and spotted the blonde haired girl standing next to a dark leather chair behind a large mahogany that held a few more trophies, one picture frame turned away from him, and a nameplate that proclaimed in real fire "Lady Sue Sylvester".

"Ma'am, the old geezer is here for Hummel."

The chair spun around to reveal a woman who, when standing, would no doubt be very tall, and had a short pale blond haircut and piercing eyes that glared at him. Her mouth was a thin line and she had her fingers pressed together in a steeple, her elbows resting on the arms of the leather chair. She was wearing a dark purple tracksuit with gold stripes going up either side of her body, and a gold cape to match. She glared at him.

"I sent for Hummel, not some old man who was probably around to witness the birth of the universe. What are you doing here?"

Blaine shifted nervously and opened his mouth to answer but she cut him off.

"And stop standing there like you have a wedgie. Sit down," she said with a gesture towards a chair that appeared out of thin air in front of his desk. He glanced at it warily, thinking of the chair that the Fury had taken in the other. She seemed to notice his hesitation and rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm not going to purge you like I did with that oaf. You don't have anything to purge anyway. You're just a measly human with far too much hair gel. Seriously, aren't you worried that old grey rotting hair of yours won't fall out with the amount of product you put in it? I can smell it from here. No wait, nevermind, it probably keeps it glued to your head, doesn't it?"

He stared at her, mouth falling open in surprise, as his body moved numbly towards the chair. This witch didn't seem to care at all about how she came off to people, nor how they felt about her insults. Blaine was beginning to understand Kurt for not wanting to return to being her apprentice.

"Becky, you can leave," Lady Sylvester said to the blonde girl. "And tell the other Becky-clone I want my protein shake with extra powder in it this time."

"Yes, miss," Becky replied before retreating though the door in which they came.

Sue looked at Blaine, narrowing her eyes at him, as her nostrils flared in distaste. "What the hell is that yellow thing on your shoulder?"

Startled, Blaine turned to look at the small canary that was huddled on his shoulder, wings drawn in tight, with its eyes staring at the great witch apprehensively.

"It's…it's a bird, ma'am," he answered, looking back at her.

"Hmmph. What are you, some kind of fairy tale princess then? With animal friends that do your housework for you? Let me guess, you're actually some lazy-ass whiny rich man who is trying to get Hummel to do some willy-nilly magic for him and will do anything, including coming to me on his ladyass behalf, to get it?"

Blaine bristled, but sharp talons in his shoulder reminded him not to do anything rash. Instead, he forced a smile onto his face. "No, _ma'am_," he said through gritted teeth. "I am here…to let you know my _grandson_ will not be returning to be your apprentice."

Lady Sylvester stared at him for a minute before bursting out in laughter. "Oh, that's rich! _Grandson!_ You expect me to believe that? How much did he pay you to come in here and pretend to be his grandfather?"

He frowned, shifting in his seat.

"Listen, gramps," Sue said, sitting forward and leaning on the desk. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't think you know who I am. I'm Sue Sylvester. _Lady_ Sue Sylvester. That title isn't there because I drink tea and stitch doilies and talk about what lovely weather we are having. It's there because I _earned_ it. And I made sure the people who gave it to me _knew_ that. So don't expect any pleasantries from me, Gelmet-head. So why don't you just come out and say it? Hummel's a coward and was too scared to come tell me on his own that he didn't want to be my apprentice anymore, so he sent you instead. Typical."

"Kurt's not a coward!" Blaine blurted out, rising to his feet. Kurt-bird twittered nervously on his shoulder, fluttering its wings. But Blaine ignored the bird, a sudden anger churning in his stomach. He felt adrenaline rushing through him as he pushed out his chest and raised his chin, feeling younger than he had in weeks. "He's the most moral, compassionate person that I've ever isn't afraid to stand up for the people he cares for. It's no wonder he doesn't want to learn from you anymore! You're just a bully!"

Sue's nostrils flared, her hands clenching into white-knuckled fists in front of her. "You know, lover boy, I'm not afraid to 'shoot the messenger' as the saying goes. You'd better watch your mouth, or else your feelings for this boy are going to get you in some deep shit with me. Deeper than you already are – which is about the post-burrito level. And you don't _want_ to know what it's like at the enema level."

"Sue, I would appreciate it if you didn't threaten my friend," a muffled voice said to their right. Whipping his head around so fast Blaine thought he heard something crack, Blaine found himself staring through the glass window at Kurt, who was grinning back at him.

"Wha-?" Blaine began, glancing at the yellow bird on his shoulder that looked up at him and blinked, cocking its head to the side. "Then who-?"

With a snap of his fingers the window shimmered and Kurt stepped through it as if it were a hologram. Blaine couldn't help but let his eyes rake over him, noting the dark wash jeans tucked into white boots and black vest over a soft-blue three-quarter length shirt that was unbuttoned at the top to reveal the edge of a white wifebeater. He had flipped his hair up in in front and had tied a violet-and-gold diamond-patterned cloak around his neck, the collar upturned in a way that it made his neck seem even longer than usual.

Blaine gulped.

"How nice of you to finally join us, Porcelain," Sue growled, eyeing the cloak with annoyance and smoothing down her own outfit. "I'm actually surprised to see you here. I thought you were too chicken."

Kurt smiled tightly at her. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. But I thought it would be better to send in someone ahead of me – someone you _couldn't_ touch – before coming here myself. Am I right, my lady? You did try to set a trap for me, did you not?"

Lady Sylvester returned the thin smile. "You're good, Porcelain. Why do you think you were my star pupil?" She snapped her fingers. "You remember David, of course?"

Blaine turned in his seat as a noise from the doorway behind him drew his attention. The girl from before, Becky, was leading in the Fury – except he no longer looked so formidable. His pallor had turned ashen, his hair gone lank, and his eyes looked tired. He was slouched over, hands shoved into his pocket as he shuffled his feet behind Becky. He glanced up as he entered the room and, upon seeing Kurt, froze.

"Karofsky," Kurt said, startling Blaine. He glanced at Kurt then back at the Fury – _Karofsky, David Karofsky_ – as the connection made itself apparent. So _this_ was the bully Kurt had gotten so worked up about. The one who-

Blaine let out a growl, startling the bird on his shoulder who flew off in nervous flight, and made to move towards Karofsky, who shrunk back from him. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, however.

"This is my fight, Mr. Anderson," Kurt murmured in his ear, before the pressure was gone and Blaine was left gaping at the wizard as he walked up to Karofsky.

"David," Kurt said calmly. "I'm not going to say what you…what you _did_ to me was pleasant for me. But I am going to forgive you."

"You-what?" Karofsky started, looking up at Kurt, his eyes shining. "But…but what I did wasn't right. I'm so sorry, Kurt, for the way I've treated you and for…for _kissing_ _you_ when you didn't want it."

Blaine couldn't see, as Kurt's back was facing him, but he could tell he was smiling as he laid a gentle hand on Karofsky's shoulder. "And that's why I forgive you."

Karofsky let out a sob, covering his face with his hands as his shoulders shuddered. Blaine watched, heart swelling as Kurt took the broken teen into his arms and made shushing noises.

"Oh, for the love of – would you_ please_ stop all this sniveling? You're getting snot all over my floor," Sue snapped, startling everyone and causing Kurt and Karofsky to jump apart. Karofsky sniffed, rubbing his nose on his sleeve, keeping his head down.

"What did you do to him?" Kurt asked, looking at the teenager with concern.

Sue waved her hand dismissively. "I just returned him to the blubberingwastebasket of an oaf he is that wouldn't know hygiene if it kicked him in the rear end, but mostly because he probably wouldn't be able to feel it through all that pudge." When Kurt blinked at her, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "I simply got rid of the demon in him! And bound his magic. I wasn't going to do that to you, Porcelain. I need your magic. It's too good to waste. Just a good demon-purging is all you need."

Blaine started, glancing between Kurt and Sue. _A demon? In Kurt? But how-_

Sue seemed to notice his confusion and let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, you didn't know, twinkletoes? Your little boy toy here's got himself a demon."

"No. Kurt wouldn't. I don't believe you. Kurt," he said turning to the wizard in question. "Tell her you would never…tell her you didn't…"

But Kurt wasn't looking at him. He was staring down at the ground, biting his lip and shaking his head. _No, _Blaine thought. _He's shaking his head no. No he doesn't have a demon in him. I knew he wouldn't ever do something like that._

"I'm sorry, Blaine."

He finally looked up and met Blaine's gaze. Blaine gasped as he locked eyes with black ones. The whites were still there, but the irises were as black as the pupils they surrounded, like an endless void.

"Oh, Kurt," he found himself whispering, reaching out a hand to Kurt.

Kurt blinked and slowly the black faded back to blue, but Blaine could see that his irises were still darker around the edges, like the black was still there, waiting to take over as soon as the chance came. He waited for Kurt to take his hand, but he didn't. After several seconds of Kurt just staring at Blaine's hand he looked away and, feeling crushed, Blaine let it fall to his side.

"I'm not going to take 'no' for an answer," Sue drawled from where she sat, lounging in her chair and twirling a ring of fire around her pinky. Kurt turned back to her, his face settling into a stubborn frown.

"Well, that's the only one I'm going to give, I'm afraid."

Sue's eyes narrowed, her mouth contorting into a strange grimace-like frown. "You're going back to that chia pet, aren't you? I swear, that Will Schuester-"

"Actually, Sue, I'm not. I'm done with apprenticeships altogether. But I'm especially done with _you_." Kurt walked over to Blaine, slipping a hand into his. Blaine jumped at the contact that had only just recently been denied to him, glancing down at their entwined fingers, and back up to Kurt, who wasn't looking at him. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"I'm not done with you, Hummel!" Sue shouted, finally rising from her chair. Blaine gulped, taking in her full height as she towered above them and pointed her finger at Kurt. He involuntarily took a step towards Kurt, pressing closer to him. Kurt, in turn, slid his arm around his waist and drew him even tighter against his body. If Blaine hadn't been too busy staring at Lady Sylvester in fright, he probably would have been blushing to the roots by now.

"I'm sorry, Sue, but I'm not interested in being your _minion_," Kurt retorted, spitting out the last word in disgust.

"I don't care what your interests are, ladyboy! You _are_ going to work for me! I'll make sure of it! Sue Sylvester has _never_ been denied a servant!"

Kurt laughed as he began backing up towards the window, pulling Blaine with him. A weight settled on Blaine's shoulder and he didn't have to look to know it was the yellow canary.

"I want to see you try, dragon lady."

And with that, he jumped through the window.

Sue let out a screech of unspeakable volumes, causing Karofsky to wince and Becky to bat an eye. She sped over to the window and watched as Kurt and that boy who had come in as an old man hopped onto a flying machine and rose into the air. With a growl she spun around, hand flying out and knocking over a display case of trophies.

"Becky!" she shouted.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Get me everything you know about Blaine Anderson! NOW!"

"On it, miss!"

Sue turned around and glared out the window at the fading flying machine. A small chuckle rose in her, growing louder as she realized what situation Kurt Hummel had just put himself in.

"Oh, Porcelain, you underestimated me. Just you wait. You _will_ do what I say."

"Here you go, my lady," Becky announced, handing Sue a manila folder.

"Thank you, Becky. You may leave," she told her dismissively, watching from the corner of her eye as Becky bowed. "Take that sniveling snotball with you. And get someone to clean up this mess."

"Yes, miss. Right away, miss."

Sue opened the folder and smiled down at the picture of grinning boy in a navy blue blazer with red piping and a red and navy striped tie. "Consider yourself _mine_, Porcelain."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And now the conclusion...**

* * *

Blaine shuddered as the flying machine they were standing on rose in the air, motorized wings whirring at hummingbird speed on either side of them, and wrapped his arms tighter around Kurt's waist, burying his face into the back of his cloak. He felt his stomach drop as the ground pulled away, while he struggled to settle his erratically beating heart.

"It's okay," Kurt's voice washed over him. "I've got you."

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, finally feeling calm enough to pull his head away from Kurt's back and blink around at their surroundings. They were flying over houses and buildings and trees, all blurring by as the wind whipped their faces and clothes. He looked at Kurt, who was smiling at him easily over his shoulder.

"How do you know my name?" Blaine asked.

Kurt cocked his head, confusion written on his face. "What do you mean? You told me your name, Mr. Anderson."

Blaine shook his head, pulling back a bit, but keeping his hands tight on Kurt's waist. "No I didn't. Back there. You called me Blaine. How do you know my first name?"

Kurt hesitated, reaching down with one hand to stroke his thumb over Blaine's wrist. Blaine felt his stomach swoop at that moment, but figured it was because of the sudden turn Kurt made, twisting in the air as he began to lower their altitude. By now they were nearing the edge of Lima and the coffee shop was coming into view.

"I've always known who you are, Blaine," Kurt whispered, his face turned towards the horizon in front of them while his voice carried on the wind past Blaine's ears. "Ever since you came into the shop. It's kind of difficult to forget a laugh like yours." And then, quieter, almost so that Blaine missed what he said. "Or your eyes."

_**(2): Brown**_

The door of The Lima Bean opened with a jingle of bells. Blaine stepped inside, blinking to adjust his eyesight from the brightness outside to the sudden dimness inside. As shapes began to form, he took in a small coffee shop, with a wooden counter on the far wall hiding a coffee maker and multiple percolators and cabinets filled with different ingredients. A board hanging above it listed off different types of drinks. Small tables filled the room, seating for about two of four per table, with a small couch and several armchairs in the corner. The walls were painted white, save for the one opposite him, which was made of brick and looked more like the outside of a house with steps leading up to a black-painted door. There were windows in this wall, but they were probably just decorative, Blaine figured, considering that thick dark green curtains shielded the view from the opposite side of the glass panes.

"Hello?" he called out in his rough, gravelly voice. The door fell closed behind him, forcing a gust of wind past him. As he watched the curtains behind the decorative windows billowed inwards and he realized that they weren't actually decorative. For a brief moment he could see a chair and a fireplace and a set of stairs, and then the curtains settled again. Curious, he began shuffling towards the door, wincing as his knees twinged in arthritic pain.

"Oh, hello!" a chirpy voice greeted from behind him. He whirled around, coming face to face with a short girl with long brown hair, very wide eyes, and an even wider smile. She was wearing a green apron over a hideously pink dress and had seeming appeared out of nowhere. A small white nametag just above her breast proclaimed her name to be "Hello my name is Rachel!" with a gold star sticker next to it. Blaine looked around in confusion, but the only doors were the one he came in and the one on the opposite side of the room. "Can I get you anything, sir?"

"Um…"

Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the counter before sliding behind it herself.

"What would you like? Coffee? Tea? A scone? Maybe a cookie? I make the most wonderful vegan cookies, and if you'd like I could even add some writing. What's your name?"

"Bl-" He hesitated, wondering if he could trust this girl, and wondering why he was even telling her his name. Instead, he answered, "Anderson. You can call me Mr. Anderson."

Her smile faltered for a bit then returned. "Okay…well, Mr. Anderson what'll it be?"

"Just a medium drip, please."

"Coming right up! Why don't you take a seat?" Rachel suggested as she rung him up and handed him his change.

Blaine began edging towards one of the tables near the brick wall, only for Rachel to suddenly appear by his side and guide him towards one of the armchairs instead, babbling on about how "an eldery man like you shouldn't have to suffer the confines of a hard-backed chair that would no doubt leave you in discomfort. Here, why not take a seat on this far more comfortable armchair and I'll bring you your drink as soon as it's done?"

She left him there, blinking and wondering how she had managed to say all of that without seeming to take a breath or even break her smile. But Rachel was already behind the counter again, rummaging around and gathering up coffee grinds and turning on the coffee maker. He watched her for a moment, before curiosity once again took over and he looked at the door, wondering what was behind it. The shop hadn't been that big on the outside – just a one story building – and he was curious to see where those stairs went.

Slowly and quietly, he began to rise from his seat, watching Rachel carefully to make sure she didn't see him move. He was just about to take a step forward when a shout from the room behind the door caused him to stumble and fall back onto the seat, and Rachel to let out a small scream as she dropped a box of coffee filters.

"BERRY!"

"Oh for the love of-" Rachel muttered, scooping down to retrieve the filters and then moving out from behind the counter. She stalked over to the door, up the two stairs, yanked it open and, walking through it shouted "WHAT?"

The door swung shut behind her, but not all the way. A crack remained, but Rachel's voice and whomever she was talking to were muffled. Blaine decided he'd had enough of waiting around and so he stood up and walked over to the door, pulling it open a bit more and peering into the room.

It was some sort of living room, he figured, with a red oval rug off to the right in front of a softly glowing fireplace. There was a large purple wing-tipped armchair and a matching sofa. The walls, which were striped with cream and green, were lined with bookshelves covered in books and knick-knacks. To the left a set of stairs curved elegantly upwards towards a landing, disappearing into a hallway. Towards the back of the room there was a smaller hallway leading into the distance – farther than Blaine knew the confines of the Lima Bean building should be able to reach.

Strangely enough, the fact that the building was bigger on the inside didn't make him exclaim loudly as he did. No, what did make him shout was the thing with which Rachel was conversing.

"You have a talking fire!"

Rachel whirled around with a gasp, staring at him as her hands flew to her mouth.

"Mr. Anderson! You're not supposed to be back here!"

"But, you have a _talking fire!_" he reiterated, pushing the door wider and staring at the fire which, he noted, was _staring back at him_. The fire had shaped itself a pair of eyes and a mouth and was currently hissing and spitting out sparks as it talked in an unmistakably female voice.

"Yo, grandpa, I'm right here you know."

"Oh! I'm sorry! I just…" he trailed off as he stepped closer, staring at the fire as it seemed to blink at him and give him a sneering look.

"You're just what? Incredibly rude?"

"No. Shocked, I guess," he said with a laugh, unable to contain his delight at the situation. Distantly he heard a creak from the top of the stairs, and started to turn to look when the fire spoke again, drawing his attention back to watch the way it blinked and moved its mouth like any regular person's face. It was _fascinating_.

"Yeah, I get it. It's not every day you see a face as beautiful as mine, right?" the fire purred. Blaine blinked and shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm not…sorry I don't swing that way."

"Figures. But hey, it's not like I do either. Plus, if I did have to take one, I'd like it nice and firm, not wrinkled like-"

"Mr. Anderson!" Rachel interrupted, grabbing onto his arm and pulling at it. She was glancing around nervously. "Please, you shouldn't be back here."

"Why not, Berry?" the fire asked as it sent out a spark. Blaine wasn't sure, but he didn't think 'Berry' was a petname for Rachel, if the fire's attitude towards her said anything about their relationship. "He's not doing any harm. And he's probably more enjoyable company than you are. Look at all that gel in his hair. I wonder what would happen if I blew some sparks on it."

Blaine's eyes widened and he stumbled back away from the fireplace – right into someone's arms.

Gasping, he spun around and found himself staring into a familiar pair of blue eyes – the same ones he had been daydreaming about since his stroll through the sky.

"Santana," Kurt said calmly, his eyes still trained on Blaine's face. "What have we said about setting fire to people in this house?"

The fire behind him let out a sigh, but Blaine couldn't tear his gaze away from Kurt's eyes to look at it. They were so blue and clear, shining with an unseen laughter as he smiled at Blaine, who, he realized, had his jaw hanging open and quickly snapped it shut.

"No setting anyone on fire whether it be their clothes or their hair or even their face. Except anything made by Burberry. That's fair game."

"Thank you, Santana. Now, Mr. Anderson, was it? My name is Kurt. Would you care for some coffee?"

"Oh! I was just getting that!" Rachel said, rushing past them into the coffee shop.

"Come, why don't you sit down. You must be tired."

"I…okay," Blaine replied dully, mind swimming as he tried to focus on something other than the breathless feeling he got while looking at Kurt's eyes. He allowed himself to be led over to the couch and sat down gingerly. Kurt patted his knee before moving away and settling in the armchair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands on top of his knee. Blaine took in his outfit carefully, drinking in the black loafers, the white pants, and the boat-neck navy and white long-sleeved t-shirt. He was wearing a white flat cap as well, tilted to the side, and a brooch of a yellow canary that reflected the firelight as he turned to face Blaine.

"So, Mr. Anderson. What brings you to Lima?"

"I…I don't know," Blaine replied, fiddling with the strap on his bag containing all of the belongings he had grabbed before he left home. Several changes of clothes, toiletries, a large container of hair gel and his comb, and of course, his emergency bow ties.

"You don't know?" Kurt replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "Or you won't tell?"

"I…can't tell."

"Hmmm…a curse is it?" Blaine's head snapped up and Kurt nodded. "I understand. Do you need a place to stay?"

"Oh, I-I couldn't impose on you like that," Blaine began, gripping his bag tighter.

"Nonsense," Kurt replied, waving his hands. There was a soft popping noise followed by a soft thump from the corner of the room. Blaine looked over and saw a mattress had appeared on the floor, with sheets and blacks folded on top as well as a pillow. He blinked in surprise and turned back to gape at Kurt. "And if you don't feel comfortable taking charity, you can always help Rachel with the shop."

"You…you would do that? For me? But why?" Blaine asked, still unsure if this was real. He watched as Kurt looked down and brushed at his pants.

"I just…My father always taught me that kindness gives us the most in life. Besides, I…I heard you talking to Santana…about…about being…"

"Gay?"

"Here you go!" Rachel said cheerily as she entered the room, carrying a tray with a steaming mug of coffee on it as well as a plate of yellow-frosted cookies. She walked over to the sofa area and paused, frowning. In moments a wooden coffee table appeared and she set the tray down on top of it with a smile. "Medium drip, just as you ordered. There's cream and sugar and I took the privilege of putting out a plate of my vegan lemon cookies."

"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt said with a thin smile. "You may go."

"But-"

"Don't you have some spells to practice in your room?" Kurt continued, his smile plastered on his face.

Rachel's eyes widened and she seemed to take the hint. "Oh!" And with that she scurried off up the stairs, disappearing down the hallway.

Kurt sighed, the smile slipping off his face, and looked down at his knees. "I've never met anyone other than Rachel's dads who is gay."

"You're the only one your age who is out?" Blaine asked, adding some sugar to his coffee and stirring it gently.

"Sort of…"

Blaine frowned in confusion but Kurt continued speaking.

"Were you…were you ever bullied? For being gay?"

Blaine swallowed hard over a sudden lump that formed in his throat. Images flashed in his memory – of flying fists and angry faces and the dark stain of blood on the asphalt – but he closed his eyes against them and forced himself to nod his head.

"Are you being bullied, Kurt?"

The wizard let out a sigh, which was mimicked by the fire, whom Blaine had almost forgotten, causing him to jump in his seat.

"Of course he's being bullied, you twit. He's gay in Lima, Ohio! This may be a city full of magical beings, but they still don't like fairies," Santana sneered.

"Santana!" Kurt snapped.

"It's the truth, Hummel."

"Just…not now, Santana. _Please_."

"Yeah, yeah, whatevs."

Ignoring the fire and turning back to Blaine, Kurt took a deep breath. "There's this…one wizard…a Neanderthal…who hasn't stopped _bothering_ me since I came out. And recently it got worse. And on top of my father ending up in the hospital with a heart attack…it just became a little too much for me, I guess. I created this place as a sort of sanctuary after I left my apprenticeship."

Blaine's eyes widened. He'd never heard of a witch or wizard who'd hadn't finished an apprenticeship except for those who – _but no, _he thought. _There's no way Kurt could have done that. He's far too kind for that. It must have been the pressure from the bully that forced him to leave._

"But this guy…he just won't _stop_," Kurt continued, frustration growing in his voice as his eyes began to shine wetly. "He keeps finding me whenever I got out. It's like he tracks me down, just so he can shove me around and call me names. And of course no one does anything about it. Not my old master, or my more recent one. They just don't _care_."

Blaine felt a sudden desire to just reach over and pull Kurt into a hug, but he had a feeling that might seem weird, especially since they had only "just" met. Instead, he gripped his mug, took a sip, and then opened his mouth to speak, hoping that what he was about to say would help the boy before him.

"I understand, Kurt. When I was bullied…no one seemed to care. It was like 'you're gay, what do you expect?' So I ran away. I regret it some days, not being able to stand up for myself. I felt like such a coward. And then there are other days…when I don't regret it at all. The place I ended up was wonderful. I felt safe. But Kurt…_you_ can do something."

Kurt sniffed and looked up at him. "I can?"

Blaine nodded, setting the mug on the tray. "You can face your bully yourself, stand up to him, make him _see_ that what he is doing is wrong. Don't wait around for someone to save you, Kurt. It's the twenty-first century. You can save yourself. All it takes is courage."

"I…_thank you_," Kurt whispered, wiping a hand across his eye. "You don't…you don't know what that means to me."

"Oh, believe me, Kurt, I do. You don't know how much I wish someone had been there to say those words to me."

Kurt grinned shyly at him and Blaine smiled back.

"Do you two need to get a room or something?" Santana asked, breaking the silence.

"_Santana!_"

_**(6): Orange**_

"Alright, guys! It's moving day!"

There was a moment of silence and then-

"What do you mean, 'moving day'? Kurt Hummel, if you expect me to pack up all of my belongings-"

"Hummel, what are you getting at? Moving? No, wait, you don't mean – oh hell no, ladyface! I ain't movin' no shit for you-"

"-and then I'll have to find safe storage containers for all my trophies and vintage posters and records and what will I do about my Barbra collection, I mean, that's priceless and there are far too many items-"

"-already heat the water, help cook the meals, keep this place freaking _shielded_ from danger. I may be amazing, but I do far too much work as it is. And now you want me to _move the friggin house for you? _Nah ah, no me gusta. Find some other source of magic-"

"-and where are we moving to, huh? I need to know what the environment will be like so I can judge its effects on my vocal chords and magical prowess-"

"ENOUGH!"

Blaine jumped as Kurt let out a terrific shout next to him, effectively silencing the witch and the fire. Without thinking, Blaine laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder, willing him to calm down.

The wizard drew in a breath through his close, closing his eyes, before opening them again and exhaling through his mouth. "Now. Rachel, we are not moving like you think we're moving. We're changing the locations on the doors and…rearranging some rooms. Santana, I understand it takes a lot of work from you, but _please_, this is really important. Sue is going to stop at nothing to get to me, so we need to get rid of our connections to the house in Lima and the brownstone in New York. Sue knows too many people in both places."

"What about the coffee shop?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. "I took on that portal after I left Sue. She has no idea we're located there. Alright, now everyone, let's get to work! Quickly, now! The Desperate House-Witches of Salem County is on in an hour and I don't want to miss it!"

"Oooh," Blaine murmured. "I love that show? Can I join you?"

Kurt threw him a toothy grin. "I was sort of counting on it."

There it was again. That swooping feeling in his gut that he had felt on the flying machine. Only this time, Blaine knew why his heart was beating faster in his chest.

In less than ten minutes the floor was clear of all dirt and dust, the carpet rolled up and the furniture pushed to the side. Rachel and the bird, who had stayed with Blaine all throughout the flight and whom Kurt had instantly taking a liking too ("I think I'll call him Pavarotti. What do you think, Blaine?"), went to perch on the stairs to observe as Kurt took a piece of chalk and began drawing markings. Blaine followed her and settled a few steps below, peering through to watch. Kurt leaned down after he had drawn a circle and began tracing symbols in the middle of the circle. Blaine admired Kurt's long fingers as they gripped the chalk. His eyes followed the shape of his forearm up to where he had rolled back his sleeves, revealing just-toned arms that left Blaine wondering how much Kurt worked out.

Kurt shifted, turning to make a new mark, and Blaine found himself with a perfect view of his ass, his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination. Blaine felt a heat creeping onto his neck and he forced himself to look away.

_Not what he needs now,_ Blaine scolded himself. _Some pervy old dude leering at his perfectly round, smooth – no stop that!"_

"There!" Kurt said with a flourish as he tossed the chalk to the side. Walking over to the fireplace, he picked up a coal shovel and leaned down to scoop up Santana.

"Careful, ladyfingers," the fire warned as he walked back over to the circle, carefully holding the shovel straight out in front of him. He walked around to the edge of the circle that faced the doorway, toed off his boots and socks and then stepped over the line.

Blaine watched as Kurt's eyes went dark, shuddering involuntarily as the blackness creeped over them once more. Kurt held out his hand, palm down, and whispered a few words that Blaine couldn't understand.

Then, Santana was sparking and growing larger. There was a burst of light and color that filled the room, so bright Blaine was forced to cover his eyes. There were several popping and groaning noises, and the stairs under him shuddered briefly. Then, just as soon as it had begun, it stopped.

Blinking, Blaine lowered his arm and glanced around. The living room area had shrunk a bit lengthwise, his mattress had disappeared, and there was a door in the corner where his bed had once been. The fireplace had grown in size and had a larger hearth. Kurt was gently placing Santana in her new home.

"Oh!" Rachel exclaimed, having finally opened her eyes and looked around. "I _have_ to go see my room!" Blaine laughed, watching as she scampered up the wooden stairs with a new black railing.

"Would you like to see your room, Blaine?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine stared down at him. "M-my room?"

Kurt grinned. "Of course, silly. You didn't think I wouldn't make one for you, now would you?"

Blaine made his way down the stairs and, with a smile, took Kurt's offered hand, letting him tug him towards the new door in the corner. When he opened it, he was met with a strong sense of nostalgia.

It wasn't just any bedroom. It was _his_ bedroom. His exact bedroom from his home in Westerville, down to the same color carpet and blue walls. He sucked in a breath as tears began to form at the corner of his eyes. He hadn't realized how much he missed his family until now.

Kurt seemed to sense his emotions, tugging him away from the door and closing it behind him. "There will be more time for that later," he whispered gently. Blaine nodded, not trusting his voice just yet.

"Kurt! Kurt, where have we moved to?" Rachel shouted as she bounded down the stairs giddly.

Kurt laughed. "Go and see! Turn to the red one."

Rachel let out a squeal and ran to do so. Blaine made to follow her but Kurt held him back.

"Oh trust me, you've been there before. Let Rachel explore a bit. I have someplace else I want to show you," he said.

Blaine looked at him and nodded. When he turned back to watch Rachel, he saw her opening a door into a familiar, cobblestoned courtyard surrounded by large brick walls on all four sides. His eyes widened as he took in the familiar scene that Rachel and Pavarotti were walking and flying into.

"Kurt?" he asked, turning to look at the wizard. "But – how?"

Kurt chuckled, wrapping an arm around Blaine's waist and pulling him close. "Rachel explained it to you didn't she? I can make us a doorway anywhere, just so long as there's already one where I plan on going."

"But…_Dalton_. Kurt. It's my _school_."

Kurt smiled softly down at him, dark blue eyes soft as he gazed in Blaine's. "I know how happy you were there, and how much you miss it. And don't worry about the students. It's summer vacation, remember? Most of them are gone. And this is only temporary."

"But…where are we? In Dalton, I mean?" Blaine was trying to wrap his head around the fact that they were in _Dalton_, a school of all things. And the doorway led to a courtyard but the only entrances to this courtyard were from hallways…

"We're in the hallway you first led me down, remember?" Kurt murmured into his ear, hot breath ghosting across Blaine lobe. Blaine let out a gasp as a shiver ran down his spine. He turned his head to look at Kurt, and discovered their faces were closer than they had been since the day they first met. Kurt's breath blew across his lips, sending more swooping feelings through his stomach as his heart began to pound faster in his chest.

But then Kurt was gone, leaving Blaine blinking and swaying on his feet as the daze he was in left him. There was a soft clicking noise and Blaine glanced over at the doorway to see that Kurt had shut it and was now turning the dial once, twice, until it landed on

_**(8): Pink**_

Blaine struggled to make out the blurry image that was slowly fading into focus. There was a tree, its branches bare and twisted, while those off in the distance still had warm-colored leaves dotting theirs. The sky was dark and filled with winking stars and as he finally stepped onto firm ground, it crunched under him, revealing old crinkly leaves covered in a frost.

He recognized it immediately.

"_My mother brought me here when I was younger, right before she died," Kurt had said, leading Blaine from the shed door that had been built, as Kurt said, by his father as a gift to his mother. "It was where they first met," he told him. "But without a door…there was no way for her to get a portal here. So my dad built one."_

"_It's beautiful," Blaine breathed, taking in the soft green grass, the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees, and the soft breeze that blew across his forehead. "But why are you showing this to me?"_

"_It's for you, Blaine."_

_Blaine turned and gaped at Kurt, who was biting his lower lip gently. _

"_Me?"_

"_A, present, of sorts. I wanted a place where you and I could go together. A place just for us. That no one else knows about."_

_Blaine smiled, heart swelling with so much emotion as he reached up and cupped Kurt's jaw, marveling in the way Kurt leaned into his touch, smiling against his palm._

"_Somewhere only we know?" he whispered._

_Kurt nodded. "Somewhere only we know."_

Blaine shook his head out of the memory, trying not to dwell on that moment. Instead he looked around the cord, autumn scene, sad and dying ad a cold wind bit at his fingers. Pavarotti trilled sadly and landed on his shoulder, burying into Blaine's neck. He reached up with two fingers and absentmindedly stroked the shivering bird.

He began walking along the path he and Kurt had taken before, winding through the trees and shadows, with a couple lamps glowing to light the way. There, as he turned a bend, he saw a figure standing at the edge of the treeline, in the clearing he had taken him to that day. He was standing, head tilted up towards the sky.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispered to himself, pausing to stare at the wizard, wondering when this was for him. He knew it was a memory he had stepped into. There was something about the feel of it – real, but off, as if he could fall through the ground at any moment. But Kurt was as tall as Blaine knew him to be. So the memory had to be recent.

There was a flash of light in the sky, followed by another, and then another. Soon the sky above Kurt was filled as stars rained down, setting a soft glow that lit up his face and torso. Even from here Blaine could see the tear tracks on his cheeks.

There was a burst nearby and he jumped, turning to see a white ball of light zooming toward the ground and then with a hiss it turned into a light-figure like the ones that had surrounded Karofsky at McKinley. It skipped across the dead leaves for a few paces, before stumbling and fading out.

Blaine began to run.

"Kurt!" he shouted, trying to get his attention, as Pav twittered nervously in his ear, his talons gripping tight so that he didn't fall off.

But Kurt hadn't heard him, moving farther into the clearing, shining eyes reflecting the falling stars as he reached out his cupped hands and with a splash of light caught one.

"Kurt!"

It was like running in a dream, Blaine realized. The faster he tried to run, the heavier his legs seemed to feel, dragging along as he struggled to reach the boy he loved. He watched helplessly as Kurt bent over the glowing ball of energy in his hands, his face glowing in the light from the fallen star. Blaine was so close to the edge of the clearing now-

Kurt tipped his head back, bringing his hands to his lips, and then the star was gone.

"No, Kurt," he pleaded, slowing to a stop as he reached the edge of the grass. Blaine watched as he grimaced in pain, bending over double and clutching at his chest. It pained him to see Kurt in pain, but it didn't seem to last for long. Because then Kurt was standing up straighter, and he was removing his hands from his chest, bringing with them an orange and yellow ball of flame that Blaine recognized instantly.

There was a rushing noise and then he really _was_ falling through the ground.

There was a hole beneath him, but it was if he were falling in slow-motion, as a large gust of wind kept him from free-falling into the dark void beneath his dangling feet.

"Kurt!" he shouted. "Santana!"

Kurt whipped his head around to look at him as the fire in his hands peered over his fingertips to see who was shouting her name.

"It's me, Blaine!" he shouted as the ground began to swallow him and the memory began to fade. "I know how to save you now, Kurt! Find me at Dalton!"

And then everything was black.

Blaine was floating, spinning lazily in darkness until gravity seemed to decide on a center and then he was moving forward, Pav chirping quietly in his ear, as he neared a blurry outline of a door, and then he was through and there was Kurt, waiting for him.

"Oh, Kurt," he whispered as the tears he had been holding back for so long finally made their escape.

The wizard he knew was gone. In his place was a large, human-sized bird with thick black wings and large talons the color of night. Its face was still Kurt's, but his eyes were black, cold and unseeing. Blaine stepped forward, pressing a hand against Kurt's cheek, and letting out a quiet sob when he didn't respond.

"How long has he been like this?" he whispered.

"He came back about an hour ago. You were gone for so long, Blaine," Rachel said from somewhere to his left, but Blaine couldn't turn his head to look at her. "Have you figured it out then?"

Blaine nodded and sniffed, stepping back from the large blackbird and lifting up his arm to wipe his eyes on the edge of his sleeve. Then, blinking away the cloudiness of his vision he turned and walked over to the fireplace.

"Santana?" he spoke quietly.

"What do you want, ladykins?"

"To set you free."

"I-what?"

Blaine began reaching forward, putting his hand close to Santana's flames, which were warm against his palm, but not searing hot.

"Blaine!" Rachel squeaked. "What are you doing? You'll burn yourself!"

"No I won't," Blaine told her. And he gently reached out and slid his cupped palm under Kurt's heart.

"What are you doing, Anderson? Put me down! I'm gonna burn out if you don't put me back on that log right now, you gayface nitwit!"

"Don't worry, Santana. Nothing's going to happen to you," Blaine said as he turned around and made his way back to Kurt. He stood in front of the large bird, his dark eyes still staring out into nothing, holding the flames that surrounded his heart, letting them lick warmly over his hands. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against Kurt's, feeling the edges of the feathers tickling his skin and bit back a sob. Quietly, he whispered, "Please come back to me, Kurt."

And then, cupping Santana gently, he pressed her against Kurt's chest, right where his heart was meant to be, and pushed.

Kurt's eyes flew wide open in shock as a bright ball of energy flew from his chest and flitted around the room, singing her praises at being free. The body under Blaine's hands shuddered and he watched as the feathers melted away, disappearing to reveal the body of Kurt Hummel, clothes torn and skin cut from battle wounds. His eyelids closed and his body slumped into Blaine's waiting arms, who cradled him gently as he carefully lay him down on the ground.

Brushing back Kurt's soft chestnut hair, Blaine found himself humming gently to him. Quietly, he began to sing, wiling Kurt to hear him.

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_

_All your life,_

_You were only waiting for this moment to be free._"

"Blaine?" Kurt whimpered before opening his eyes. Blaine let out a sob as he looked down into the clear blue eyes he had thought he would never see again.

"Oh, there you are," he murmured as Kurt reached up with a hand to cup his cheek gently. His breath hitched as a soft thumb smoothed over his cheek, wiping at a tear as it fell. He leaned into Kurt's hand, reaching up a hand to keep it pressed against his cheek for a moment, before slipping his fingers through Kurt's. "I've been looking for you forever."

And then he was surging forward, lips finding lips, tears mingling on salty skin as both boys shuddered against one another, their breaths escaping into each other's mouths with a gasp. Blaine pressed closer to Kurt, whimpering softly as Kurt reached up to grip his waist and pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

They finally broke apart, gasping for breath, and lay there, on the hardwood floor, with their foreheads pressed together and bodies shaking with emotion, panting heavily. Kurt smiled up at Blaine, who returned it easily.

"Hey, loverboys, now that you got your mack on, mind letting me out so I can leave?"

Blinking, the boys pulled apart to look at Santana, who was still a ball of glowing colors and hovering in the air near the window. They looked at Rachel, who was crying loudly into a handkerchief and was ignoring them completely.

"You don't want to stay, Santana?" Kurt asked. "You're welcome to."

"Thanks for the offer, Ladyface, but I've gots me a gal waiting back home and I promised her I would come back. And I am no breaker of promises."

"It's okay," Rachel sniffed as Blaine moved to get up. She waved at him to stay where he was, blowing her nose loudly in the process. "I've got it."

She walked over to the window and pushed it open.

"Thanks, Berry."

Rachel smiled. "Anytime, Santana."

"Adios, putas!" Santana sang as she sped out the window and disappeared into the sky.

Rachel let out a hiccupy giggle and turned back to the boys, who were still on the floor and looking dopily at each other again.

"I'll just leave you two alone," she said. "Come on, Pav."

Blaine leaned down and pressed another soft kiss to Kurt's mouth, who hummed happily against him, clutching his bicep and returning the kiss eagerly. They pulled away again to matching grins, both blushing as they let out breathy laughs.

"Can we…can we move this somewhere more comfortable?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Oh! Of course!" He scrambled to his feet quickly, and then leaned down to offer his hand to Kurt, who took it graciously. Blaine pulled him to his feet, worry instantly crossing his mind as Kurt let out a groan of pain.

"Are you okay?" he asked, steadying Kurt as he swayed where he stood.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I guess I just got a little used to not having a heart in my chest."

Blaine led him over to the couch, where the sat down, Blaine leaning against the arm while Kurt curled into his chest, resting his head against the crook of Blaine's neck. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling him in closer and resting his cheek on his head. Kurt began lightly tracing his fingers along Blaine's forearms, sending shivers up and down his back.

"Kurt?" he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"What are you going to do now? Now that your demon is gone?"

Kurt's hand paused briefly, before resuming again. "I hadn't really thought about it yet. I suppose I might return to my apprenticeship. _Not_ the one with Sue," he added quickly. He sighed. "But that leaves Mr. Schue and while he's nice and all his teaching methods were a little…lacking, so to speak." He paused again, fingers stroking the inside of Blaine's wrist as he thought. "I think though…I think I'd first like to see my dad again."

Blaine craned his neck to look at Kurt, who was blinking rapidly and reaching up to wipe at his eyes.

"It's just that…after he got out of the hospital, I was so scared to let him see me…like I was. A coward."

Blaine tightened his hold on Kurt. "No, Kurt. You were never a coward."

Kurt sniffed. "Yes, I was."

"No," Blaine said adamantly. "You weren't. You were just lonely. It's perfectly understandable."

"Gosh," Kurt said, leaning his head back against Blaine's shoulder. "I wish I had met you before I made that stupid decision."

Blaine pressed a kiss to the top of Kurt's head. "Well, you have me now."

Kurt tilted his head and smiled up at him. "And I couldn't be prouder."

Blaine was confused. "For what?"

"You broke your curse, silly. That's no small feat for a human, you know."

"I…did?"

Kurt let out a laugh, pushing away and turning to face Blaine. "Yes, Blaine. You did."

"But…how?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's different for everyone, for every type of curse. For some it requires true love's kiss, for others a potion. But for a few… it requires some sort of self-discovery. For you, Blaine, I think that was your courage and your pride. You found your bravery to stand up for yourself, and then you figured out how to be _proud_ of yourself, instead of letting yourself continue this belief that you weren't _good enough_. But trust me, Blaine. I don't think _anyone_ could be more proud of you than I am right now."

Blaine's breath hitched as tears threatened to flow again, smiling against the kiss Kurt pressed against his lips, before returning it with as much force, reaching up to wrap his arms around Kurt's neck and pull him in closer.

He whimpered when Kurt pulled back a bit, resting their foreheads together as he straddled Blaine's waist – _how did he get there?_ – and breathing heavily.

"Blaine?"

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Thank you."

Blaine blinked open his eyes in confusion. Kurt was staring at him with eyes of blue swirling into grey and green and for a moment Blaine forgot how to breathe. Again.

"For what?"

Kurt smiled. "You saved me."

Blaine shook his head gently before leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against the corner of Kurt's mouth.

"No," he whispered. "We saved each other."

_**(1): Blue**_

The second time Kurt met Blaine was three weeks after the night under the stars. He was just winding his way down the stairs at Dalton, when he reached out to the first person he saw, and caught his attention.

"Excuse me, could I ask you a question? I'm new here."

A familiar smile. Bright honey-colored eyes that were forever engrained in his mind. A hand, extended.

"My name's Blaine."

He knew that, of course. But he couldn't tell him that. So instead he smiled, took the offered hand in his, and replied.

"Kurt."

_**Fin**_


End file.
